


Bottom of the River

by Mothbats



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Gen, mom mantis is bullying the scientists again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 14:10:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18181622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothbats/pseuds/Mothbats
Summary: The Lord’s gonna come for your first born son / His hair’s on fire and his heart is burningPsycho Mantis recognizes what could be a kindred spirit in the son of Huey Emmerich.





	Bottom of the River

**Author's Note:**

> Another old work come in from tumblr.
> 
> This comes from believing Liquid and Mantis would have some memory from Diamond Dogs days of Huey, and would be able to put two and two together of him being Hal’s father - poor Hal is ignorant to his legacy and Mantis, sensing an opportunity to tease someone so unbelievably soft-hearted, would jump at the chance to make someone squirm. With a small aside of coaxing Hal to be, maybe, a little more like him…
> 
> This was my first time writing Hal, so apologies if I didn’t get him just right. But I think I did decently for writing 99% of this at 4am. (○｀ε´○)
> 
> Title and summary come from Bottom of the River by Delta Rae, which has some Vibes I cannot help but apply to this story.

“Hard at work, doctor?” The voice that slithers into Hal’s ears doesn’t even seem human at first, more an echo from the white walls of his office than from a person. It makes his blood run as cold as the ice outside, his chair swiveling around to see one of the elite members of FOXHOUND there in the doorway, watching silently; Psycho Mantis, if he recalled correctly. And he really hoped he did, considering he didn’t know how this man would feel about someone forgetting his name.

“Of… of course, sir!” Hal is doing his best to sound chipper despite the late hour and his dry mouth; it had been so long since he had last looked up he hadn’t noticed all his colleagues had turned in for the night, leaving him alone. There was a steady hiss from Mantis’ mask as he stepped closer, something about the way he moved oddly jarring – as if his feet never truly touched the ground. Hal was instantly reminded of ghost stories, hauntings… there was an ethereal quality to the way Mantis’ lenses shone in the fluorescent lighting, looking about with an exaggerated movement, like a toy with stiff joints.

“I should think so, Dr. Emmerich. First to come, last to go, isn’t that right?” Mantis asked, but Hal could tell that it was more or less rhetorical. He didn’t remember much from his brief meeting with Liquid and the others before, but he had some vague recollection that Mantis was in charge of people, knowing who was doing what at any given time, and doing it so well that he was eerily adept at reading anyone. They said he was psychic, but psychics didn’t exist - any scientist would know that much; but it was no comfort to the chill running up Hal’s spine when Mantis was close enough to touch, looking at the computer screen over his shoulder.

“Are you, ah, here for a progress report? I haven’t turned it in yet, I just wanted to finish something first, it’s a little complicated, you see…” the words were stumbling off Hal’s tongue embarrassingly fast, not sure why he was determined to seem put together now. If Mantis was so good at analyzing others, no doubt he had figured out just how badly the otaku was falling apart before he even stepped through the door. Still, he managed to sit through the explanation without interrupting, so motionless Hal would have wondered if he were even alive if not for his loud breathing and the occasional twitch of his shoulders. He couldn’t see the other man’s eyes through those lenses, yet somehow he could sense Mantis was not impressed.

“Sounds like it must be quite a feat, building something like this,” Mantis rasped, his accent lilting somewhat as he gestured to the screen. “Yet you make it sound as if it were truly simple, doctor. But I suppose this sort of thing runs in your blood, doesn’t it?” His voice was calm but the question set Hal on edge, defenses immediately up at such a question. He supposed it must have been written all over his face, the way Mantis laughed, low and wheezing. “Is it such a shock to you that I would know your late father was an engineer? We may only be here as your bodyguards, but I don’t believe it hurts to know who we’re protecting.”

“My father and I weren’t… we weren’t close,” Hal stuttered, trying to keep his expression trained neutral; Mantis couldn’t know everything, no more than what would be in a standard file or background check. “I suppose, initially, my father may have gotten me interested in engineering… but he died before I even got to college.” The memory of the day he dropped out of school was still bitter in his mind, overlaid with guilt from running away from his home, his problems… He can tell himself he mustn’t run away, but how often could he take his own advice? Even now he wanted to run from Mantis’ scrutiny, the way he made Hal feel like he was flayed open and served on a platter. He only made it too easy to dissect him.

“I was not close with my father, either; it’s something of a running theme I’m noticing around here, these days,” Mantis sounded almost amicable, pacing to the side. If he noticed Hal’s distress he chose not to comment, arms folded behind his back. “Your father also had his hands in some similar projects; I must admit I find it hard to believe that you coincidentally decided to pursue this job when it has such a resemblance to the things your father once built.” And there, Hal could hear it, an ounce of bait, looking for some reaction. But all Hal had to give was surprise, his eyebrows up before drawing together in confusion and his hand shaking where it lay on the armrest. He told himself it was from drinking far too much caffeine, and nothing more.

“What… what are you talking about? My father… He never…” Hal started, biting his tongue when he noticed Mantis cocking his head at him like a cat observing a mouse before the pounce. “I’m sorry sir, I don’t mean any disrespect, but I don’t understand what you mean. My father didn’t work on any defense or weapons systems; he only made simple designs for the government.” It was what Hal had been told, anyway, and he had no reason to disbelieve it. Even when Huey had been in a well enough mood to show Hal what he was working on, they hadn’t been anything as grandiose as REX. Maybe that was why his father seemed perpetually frustrated with his job – was he not living up to his full potential?

“Ah, of course there would be things he would hide from you,” Mantis soothed, an air of someone with all the answers, holding out the carrot and taunting Hal with it. Hal swallowed around the lump in his throat, wondering what Mantis was trying to accomplish with this, silent and tense in his anxiety. “Do you think REX is truly the first of its kind? Similar projects have been around for decades, designs passed around until they found someone fool enough to build them. ArmsTech is just another in a long line of groups… private and governmental.”

“And you’re saying my father was on one of these projects?” Hal couldn’t help the cracking in his tone, praying that he was misunderstanding this, or that Mantis was lying to get a rise out of him. There was no way his father could have made anything like REX, there had to be a mistake; nothing like REX had ever existed before, he was certain, or else he would have heard about it - if not from the news, then from his father, had he made them. But Mantis merely nodded, unaffected by Hal’s growing distress.

“Two of them, even – though I was only privy to the latter one he worked on,” Mantis allowed his arms to fall to his side, head rolling to one shoulder as if he were discussing something a lot less serious than robotic tanks. “1984, so long ago now… You were only an infant back then; of course you would have been clueless. But I saw it.” Mantis leaned in a little closer, taking in Hal’s discomfort, his fear. It was enough to make Hal glad he had made a bathroom run only an hour before, his stomach clenching. He couldn’t even manage to ask what it was Mantis witnessed, but the other man continued on anyway.

“Do you want to know what it was like, Dr. Emmerich? Do you want to know the truth of what you are building, the destruction you will bring upon this world with your naiveté? The kind that puts children in the cockpits of tanks, at the mercy of monsters?” His voice was so low it was almost as if he were whispering a secret, Hal able to see eyes narrowed behind the glass now. “Because I have lived it, and I can tell you: your innocence won’t save you from the jaws of your creation when it comes for you.” Mantis blinked slow, pinning Hal in place with only his gaze. Maybe there really was some power there – Hal was starting to believe it now.

“Or maybe you will be like your father after all… slipping away from any true punishment for your crimes, before taking your life. Will it be out of a sense of guilt, I wonder? Your father never had such compunctions, but you…” Mantis stood up, regarding Hal like he would a man begging forgiveness: with obvious distaste. “You don’t even know what you’re really building here – if you did, would you have signed up for it? Would you have done it to be like your father, or maybe… to make something different, distance yourself from his legacy?” Mantis sighed behind his mask, the breath eking out from the filters. “I think I can guess.” He chuckled and turned away as if to leave, and Hal found himself mentally reviewing everything he thought he knew about this project, his father, his past… what was true, and what was not?

“What is it- what do you really know?” Hal asked but he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready for the answer, Mantis silent as he stopped, turned his eyes back on him. It was like a physical weight in Hal’s mind to be stared at like this, shrinking in his spot. But even so, his mouth was able to keep running. “What is it that you saw? How do I even know you’re telling me the truth?” He accused, his heart locking up when Mantis stalked back over, examining Hal where he sat, towering over him. With that cold demeanor and strange posture, the reflection of his gas mask…. Hal could see where Mantis earned his name.

“I know that you doubt who I am, Dr. Emmerich. That you don’t believe in the supernatural… but there are some things that cannot be refuted.” Mantis sounded as if he were annoyed to be explaining this, hating to be disbelieved. “And what I have seen is your father, in the flesh – so selfishly focused on his own goals that he would damn even his son to the fire of his making. I’m sure you must have wondered so many times if the path you are on is the right one… trying to live righteously in the face of your guilt.” Mantis’ hand came to rest on the back of Hal’s chair, trapping him in, watching as the engineer’s face paled to an even more sickly hue.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hal lied, turning his face away, trying to escape the conversation now. But Mantis wasn’t through with him yet, chuckling and preventing him from turning his seat as he continued, “You believe you were ultimately the hand that pushed Huey Emmerich into the water that day, but isn’t it a coward’s move to throw oneself to oblivion rather than face your mistakes?” Hal sucked in a breath, felt like he was going to be sick; how could Mantis know that? How could anyone? His head was beginning to ache, eyes misting with tears. Mantis clicked his tongue, the sound dull and muted behind the leather and plastic.

“Nobody would blame you if you hated him… if you stopped blaming yourself for his death, and instead celebrated your freedom from a man who never cared about you… I can tell you, it’s rather liberating.” Mantis’ voice was a purr, surprising gentleness as he waited for Hal to rub at his eyes, pretend he wasn’t almost crying. “Poor Dr. Emmerich… you don’t have to live in that shadow. You can always choose another path, refuse that same cowardice and accept that this world should be cleansed of such filth! But instead you let your soft heart keep you gullible to such truths; how long before you understand it?” Mantis’ question changed to bitterness and anger, sweeping his arm with a swish of his coat.

“I couldn’t. I could never!” Hal gasped, his jaw tight as he tried to think of a proper response, frightened for the sudden change in mood, and for himself, ensnared by Psycho Mantis in a rapidly deteriorating conversation. Mantis grunted his disbelief at that, Hal continuing with some trepidation, “How could anyone want to live in a world like that? I… I want to work for understanding, not some heartless, eye-for-an-eye mentality!” His heart was pounding in his throat, scarcely able to believe that he could talk this way to one of the top members of FOXHOUND, able to look Mantis in the eye and refuse him. “Whatever my father made, I won’t be the same. I won’t make the same mistakes if I’m working for peace!” Hal said it and hoped the waver to his voice came off as emotionally authentic, instead of afraid for his choices and his sanity. “Rex will be different.”

Mantis was looking at him, really examining him like an insect pinned to a board, and Hal could feel the sweat running down the back of his neck, his headache only growing. The tense silence was split by Mantis’ strange giggle, dark and rolling as it turned into a barking laugh, shaking his head and no doubt grinning behind his mask. “What a foolishly noble goal…” He chuckled, Hal gradually turning pink from being made fun of like this and unable to help folding in further. “I hope for your sake, you do not live to see just how wrong you are.” Though it sounded good-natured, Hal could hear the underlying warning there, wondering if he were about to see his own end when the echoing sound of footsteps drew both their eyes to the door.

“Mantis,” Liquid spoke and in his voice was a reprimand, the man he addressed huffing like a child caught doing something he should not have been. “I thought we discussed leaving Dr. Emmerich alone – he’s a very busy man after all. It wouldn’t do for him to get distracted from his work.” Liquid held himself with unexpected poise for being the commander of such a rough group as FOXHOUND, coming closer and making Mantis hiss through his filters.

“Of course, Boss,” Mantis bit out, clearly annoyed and using the title as if it were an insult. Strangely, Liquid didn’t seem to mind, taking Mantis’ behavior in stride. “We were only having a little discussion; besides, I think Dr. Emmerich was just on his way to sleep; it is so late after all.” Mantis turned his eyes on Hal, making him wish he could disappear - he really could not finish that stealth camo soon enough, although at this point he would settle for the earth swallowing him whole. He was stammering out that he would finish his work and clock out soon, cut off by Mantis holding his hand up, a gesture to stop. Something about it made Hal feel unbearably tired, swaying in his seat.

Distantly, he could hear Liquid and Mantis talking about something, words slurred in his ears and senseless, something about not remembering… not remembering what? Hal tried to be polite and excuse himself only to be pushed back into his chair, coming to rest his head on his arms, a classic overnighter position as the world faded darker and darker into the quiet, left alone again at last.

It was one of his coworkers that woke him the next morning, some gentle ribbing that Hal had done it again; he was going to make the rest of them look bad if he kept up these long shifts, someone else bringing him a cup of coffee that warmed his hands with a gentle warning that he should get more rest. Hal might have agreed, feeling strangely unsettled about the night before, as if some dream had made him fretful. Of course, sleeping at his desk could easily have the same effect, running a hand through his greasy hair and grimacing.

Hal could never remember if he had dreamt that night, preferring not to dwell on it in the end. His only lingering issue was a sudden aversion to certain insects and one FOXHOUND member, the thought of seeing that gas mask staring back at him in the chilled, empty halls enough to give him heart palpitations. His only relief was that this would all be over soon enough, looking over the finalized blueprints for REX and feeling his pride only momentarily brushed by uncertainty he couldn’t explain.

It was all nothing to worry about, he told himself…. Nothing at all.


End file.
